


You Were Never Mine (Just a Dream)

by ashavahishta



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Kidfic, M/M, POV Outsider, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 12:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4060363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashavahishta/pseuds/ashavahishta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick hasn't seen Harry in years. The last place he expects to find him is in a Tesco's.</p><p>(This is a repost of a tumblr ficlet that I didn't want to lose.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Were Never Mine (Just a Dream)

There’s a sale on digestive biscuits.

Nick’s been working all week, lost in the routine of early wake up calls. On Tuesday, he called and talked to his mum for about an hour. On Thursday he hung out with Aimee for a bit, but her baby’s teething so it wasn’t a good time. Aside from that, he’s had an entirely unremarkable few days.

And now he’s standing in the biscuit aisle at Tesco’s, and there’s a sale on digestive biscuits. Sadly enough, it might be the most exciting thing to happen to him all week.

 

Until he glances to the left and sees Harry fucking Styles in his aisle, of course.

It’s been - god, it’s been _years_ , since they’ve seen each other in person. The guy has his back to Nick, but he knows Harry’s signature look. There’s the soft, bouncy curls flowing past broad shoulders, there’s the expensive patterned shirt, the tight jeans, the scuffed Chelsea boots. Hints of tattoos on both arms. Yeah. That’s Harry Styles.

Nick hovers by the digestives for a moment, then nods to himself before he’s really made the decision. He marches himself forward, passing the crackers and the ginger snaps, and taps Harry on the shoulder.

“Well, if it isn’t Harry Styles,” he proclaims, and hopes to god this isn’t just a very good lookalike.

He turns and - oh yes, that’s Harry. Green eyes widening in surprise, candy-pink lips parted. There’s a baby strapped to his chest.

There’s a  _baby_  strapped to his  _chest._

It’s small (god, obviously it’s small, it’s a goddamn baby) and quite cute, as far as babies go. It blinks docilely at Nick and curls teeny fingers into Harry’s shirt. There’s another one - well, Nick supposes this one is a toddler - sitting in the child’s seat of Harry’s shopping cart with a doll clutched in its arms. The toddler appears to be a boy, with straight brown hair and very blue eyes.

Nick and Harry stare at each other for a moment, Harry still fish-mouthing at him. Then he coughs and chokes out, “Tomlinson.”

“Sorry?”

“Tomlinson,” Harry repeats, smiling now. “It’s Harry Tomlinson these days. Haven’t had anyone call me Styles in ages.”

“Right,” like the tiny children and the thick silver band on Harry’s ring finger wasn’t reminder enough. “Wow, I’m. It’s been forever!” he laughs, somewhat awkwardly, and glances again at the baby. “So this must be Matthew, right?” he’s sure he read something about them having another one.

Harry shakes his head, amused. “No mate, you’re a bit late there. This is Matthew -” he ruffles the toddler’s hair fondly - “and this is Charlie.”

The baby - Charlie - blinks some more.

“How old?”

“Nearly six months,” Harry curls a large, protective hand around the back of the baby’s head. “He’s a real sweetheart. Hardly ever cries, unlike the rest of our little monsters." 

He looks so happy that he’s practically glittering. 

"He’s gorgeous,” Nick says. He smiles and gives a small wave in the baby's direction. “So what are you doing here, anyway? Thought you’d given up on London.”

They’d moved - after the band was over, after the wedding, had disappeared to some sprawling estate in country Cheshire and started having babies nearly right away. At least, that’s what Nick had heard; Harry has apparently been so overtaken by family bliss that he hasn’t really been in contact with the London crew. While the other band members have stayed pretty active in the press, solo careers and TV appearances keeping them in the tabloids, Nick hasn’t heard much about Harry recently.

(He’d unfollowed Harry’s twitter in 2015, deciding it was better for his mental health if he didn’t have to see the daily PDA from the guy he still, sadly, pined after just a little bit.)

“We did, yeah,” Harry agrees. Nick notices that he sways unconsciously on his feet, soothing the baby on instinct while he talks. “We never sold the London house though, ‘cause we reckon we’ll move back when the kids are a little older. We’re staying there now while we visit Gemma and her family, and Lou’s doing a couple of things for the label while he’s here.”

The label, right. Because Harry’s husband owns a fucking record label.

They chit-chat for a little while, Harry asking after Nick earnestly. Matthew gets restless quickly but Harry distracts him with toys and shushes Charlie gently when the baby starts to whimper in his arms. 

Nick notices that, like most of his married friends, Harry almost never says “I”. Everything is “we” - “We had a lovely Christmas, yeah, we always like to go away around that time because it’s Lou’s birthday, then it was my thirtieth in February, can you believe it, we went on holiday just the two of us for that -”, “We went to the new Disney film with the girls last week”, “We’re thinking about- ”, “We really like -”.

This isn’t new, actually. Harry talked like this in 2012.

Talking to Harry is lovely, even though it makes Nick feel like a mess. Harry is as beautiful as he ever was; his eyes are still that stunning green, his mouth still full and luscious, his shoulders broad, his legs long, his dimples disarmingly sweet. Nick had pined after him for years, clinging to his desperate crush despite how futile he knew it was. He had thought that the time and distance had helped, but - god, here’s Harry, years later, and still making Nick’s heart skip a beat when he smiles.

And Nick’s had relationships. He has. It’s not like he’s spent the last ten years sitting at home and pining after a married man. He’s even gotten pretty serious a few times, almost proposed to Jack before everything blew up in their faces. He's had relationships, and he has a great career and wonderful friends, but.

Standing here in the biscuit aisle with Harry Styles - sorry, Harry _Tomlinson_  - he’s never felt so inadequate in his life. Because Harry is thirty (a child!), and he’s married with about two dozen kids and his husband owns a record label and they’re thinking of buying some property on the French riviera, just as a holiday home, you know how it is - and Nick is going home tonight to his fat dog and an episode of TOWIE.

He wants to make an excuse to leave, because if he watches Harry light up when he mentions Louis’ name one more time he might cry. Then, because apparently Nick was an axe murderer in a past life - the man himself comes sprinting up the aisle with yet another brown haired, blue eyed child attached to his back and  _another_  one (are they popping out of the walls?) running beside him.

Louis looks the same at thirty-whatever as he did in his twenties. He still wears Vans with his black jeans and a tank top that shows off his tattooed arms, and his eyes twinkle in the same mischievous way.  

“Well here’s a blast from the past,” he comments when he’s slowed to a stop next to Harry. “Nick Grimshaw. Wow.”

The little girl on his back is about five, if Nick had to guess, with her arms looped around Louis’ neck and her eyes bright and inquisitive. “Who’s that?” she asks, loudly.

“This is Nick, monkey-moo. He’s an old friend of your Dad’s.” Louis replies. As an aside to Harry, he adds, “They’re out of chocolate chip, darling, so Jas decided we’re getting vanilla this week instead.”

The other girl - who must be the oldest, Jasmin, dumps a tub of icecream in Harry’s cart. “Vanilla with toffee swirl,” she corrects importantly. She has thick hair pulled back into a neat ponytail (Harry’s work, Nick is sure), and a proud tilt to her head that reminds him very much of Louis.

“I wanted to pick,” whines the girl on Louis’ back.

“Hayley, it’s your pick next week.” Harry reminds her. To Nick, he says “Sorry, Nick. You remember Louis, and these are our daughters Jasmin and Hayley.”

“Hi,” Nick gives a tiny wave. Jasmin presses herself against Harry’s leg and stares at him without saying anything. 

“How are you, Nick?” Louis asks. There’s a familiar glint of challenge in his eyes which makes Nick bristle.

“Good, yeah,” Nick says vaguely. He casts around for something impressive to say and lands on, “Show’s been getting great ratings, so. Really happy.”

“That’s lovely,” Louis isn’t interested. He’s busy cooing at the baby in Harry’s arms, his features contorting into ridiculous faces to make the baby laugh. 

“Yeah. You?” Nick’s voice sounds strained even to his own ears.

“Fantastic,” the stars in Louis’ eyes match Harry’s. “Perfect."

Matthew chooses that moment to let out a shriek, obviously having been ignored for too long. Nick watches in fascination as Harry and Louis leap into action, talking softly as they do so. “Probably just wants his juice, could you -”

“Here babe, lemme take Charlie -” Louis crouches to let Hayley off his back and then lifts the baby out of Harry’s arms, cooing again as Charlie nuzzles into his neck.

“We need to get him home soon anyway, he hasn’t had a feed since -”

“- Two, I know, and Matty’s getting grumpy anyway, we should probably -”

“- Get moving, but Hayley still wants to get poster paper and pencils from the newsagent's -” Harry is holding out both juice and a new toy to the still-fussing Matthew.

“On the way home, then, and we can pick up some stuff from the pharmacy too.” Louis’ sharp eyes flick periodically between Charlie, Matthew, Harry, and the two girls who are now engaged in some kind of hand-clapping game beside him.

“Are we out again?”

“We used it all last night.”  Louis’ gaze finds Harry’s now and he grins, raising an eyebrow. “Could barely keep up with you, my love.”

Harry stares back at him, his cheeks flushing and his gaze hot.

Nick feels very invisible.

“Right!” he says loudly, breaking Harry and Louis out of whatever daze they were in. “Well, it was wonderful to see you but we’ve all got places to be,”

“I’m sure,” Louis says, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. He reaches out and shakes Nick’s hand, then makes Charlie wave a tiny fist at him. “Bye bye, Nick.”

Harry, ever lovely, steps forward to wrap Nick in a tight hug. “So happy to see you, Nick,” he says warmly. “We’re only in town for a week and we’re really busy, but give me a call or something, alright? I’d love to catch up properly.”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Nick replies weakly. Privately, he’s not sure if he’d survive hearing any more about Harry and Louis’ perfect life. “Bye.”

“Bye, have a great night!”

Harry and Louis herd their little brood away quickly. Nick watches as Harry drapes an arm over Louis’ shoulders and kisses his temple. They walk down the aisle like that, entwined, the little girls skipping along merrily beside them.

Nick stares after them until they disappear around the corner, then finally turns back to the biscuits. He feels like crap now; lonely in the worst way even though he knows that’s not what he wants for himself. He never wanted kids - he wanted Harry. And there’s nothing like that little encounter to remind him that Harry is (and always has been) utterly unobtainable.

There’s a sale on digestive biscuits.

Nick buys three packets and tells himself he’s fine.


End file.
